


Perfect Two

by ShippingEverything



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America rides a sled and Ukraine is freezing, England's life is long suffering and America continues to be THE HERO~, F/M, France is charming and they both get sick, Germany is hella awkward and the BTT helps him out, Germany is just a poor awkward teen and Italy attempts to curb the awkwardness, Greece is a poor sick babbu and cats sleep in the cabinets, I literally love this song, Iceland runs to school and Hong Kong tried to make fireworks in Chem, M/M, Prussia is really sheltered and Canada has never had toast, Spain is really hot and Romano doesn't know what to do, Sweden can't go on and the author makes poor Finland suffer, Switzerland own a bank named after a pistol and Belgium is the worst secretary, discontinued but it was a series of oneshots so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-26 17:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingEverything/pseuds/ShippingEverything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the author takes every line from "Perfect Two" by Auburn and writes a corresponding ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You can be the peanut butter to my jelly

**Author's Note:**

> Groans because this is really really short, but I really wanted to write prucan. Okay so basically in this AU Gil has never had PB&J for some reason so as a totally awesome boyfriend, Mattie has to introduce it to him. Enjoy or whatever.

Gilbert Beilschmidt and Matthew Williams sat at their kitchen table, a single plate placed in front of Gilbert, a single sandwich on top of it.

"Peanut butter and jelly?" Gilbert poked at the offending sandwich, causing it to leak strawberry jelly, "You sure this is edible?"

Matthew rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's antics. "Don't tell me that _the_ awesome Prussian is afraid of a little sandwich. How haven't you had one of these?" Gilbert shrugged in response and Matthew continued "Not having a PB  & J sandwich is almost as bad as not having pancakes—wait, I introduced you to those too."

"Shut up. It's not like I've never had jelly. I've just only eaten it on toast, and not with this weird peanut butter stuff."

Matthew cocked his head to the side in confusion, "What's toast?"

"Mein Gott, birdie, you say _I'm_ the sheltered one. Look, you take bread and-"

"Never mind, we can solve the mystery of toast later. Just eat your freaking sandwich."

"But Birdie~"

"But nothing, eat it, hoser."

"Fine, fine," Gilbert roughly grabbed the sandwich (making a quick note to self that roughly grabbing sandwiches filled with jelly was a bad idea), taking the dreaded first bite and…"Birdie, This is delicious!" The rest of the sandwich was devoured within seconds.

"Mmhm," Matthew picked up the plate and brought it to the sink, "Told ya so. Where would you be without me?"

Matthew felt Gilbert wrap his arms around him and leaned back with a contented sigh.

"I don't think I'd ever want to find out," Gilbert nuzzled his lover's neck, "Ich liebe dich, Mattie."

"Je t'aime trop, Gil."


	2. You can be the butterflies I feel in my belly...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author uses the incredibly cliche plot line of a character being in love and thinking they're sick. Luckily for Ludwig, he has his brother and the rest of the BTT to help

Ludwig had consulted every medical book he could find, but he had yet to discover why his heart pounded and his gut twisted when he was around Feliciano.

Ludwig sighed and shut the book he had been reading. The mere thought of the Italian that he had begrudgingly befriended was enough to provoke his symptoms. Maybe it was an allergy, but he sincerely hoped not; he had come to be rather fond of his bubbly friend. Still, he did want to find out what the problem was. His eyes drifted to the basement door, from which muffled rock music could be heard, and thought of how bad of an idea it would be to consult his older brother.

It would be horrible.

But it just might get him an answer.

With that hopeful prospect, he went up to the door. The music itself was almost enough to get Ludwig to give up, but he would not abscond. He steeled his nerves and knocked heavily, "Er, Bruder?"

After a few seconds of scuffling, the door opened a crack. "Hiya West! Kesesesese, what's the password?"

"You don't have a password, Gilbert."

"Exactly! Francy-pants, turn down the music!" Ludwig was roughly pulled into the room as the door slammed behind him. This was definitely a bad idea. "Guys, this is mein kleine Bruder, West- "

"My name is Ludwig."

"-and he came to hang out with us! So, whaddya need? Smokes? Piercings? A fake ID? Porn?"

"No! I just…" Ludwig sighed, bringing a hand to massage his temple, "Look, I just wanted some advice but if you're not going to be helpful then-"

Once again, Ludwig was pulled around, but this time he was pushed onto Gilbert's bed as the three boys surrounded him, "Westy, I'll give you the most awesome advice ever! Tell your favorite brother what's wrong~"

"You're my only brother."

"And your favorite! Now, spill."

Ludwig squirmed silightly under the older boys' gazes, "Well, recently when I've been around Feliciano-"

"West and Feli are dating."

The blond nodded, "Ah, so he's the 'Luddy' that Feli is always talking about."

The brunet leaned forward to examine Ludwig, "He doesn't seem as bad as Lovi says he is."

"Feliciano and I are _not_ dating!"

"Was?" "Quoi?" "Que?"

Ludwig's felt his face redden, "We are not dating. Do you want me to tell you the rest or not?"

"Fine, go on."

"So, when Feliciano and I are hanging out—don't look at me like that, _we aren't dating_ —I've noticed that I've contacted symptoms akin to that of an allergic reaction and I wanted to know what you think I should do."

"Oh Lutz," Gilbert plopped down onto the bed and slung an arm around Ludwig, "Poor, naïve West, tell me, does your heart feel like it's going to fly outta your chest?"

Ludwig's eyes flickered between the grinning trio's eyes, "Yes…"

"Oh, oh," The brunet bounced in his seat, "Do you blush a lot?"

"Er, sometimes?"

"And finally," The blond's grin grew in size (and possibly became a bit more malicious, but Ludwig really couldn't tell), "It feels like there are millions of butterflies in your stomach, oui?"

"Exactly! So do you know what's wrong?"

"'Course we do! You're in love, West~"

"Was‽ But We're just friends!"

"Duh, and you're obviously in love, so you two could become more then friends," Ludwig slammed a hand into his forehead at his brother's eyebrow wiggling, "Now, get outta my room, take out your phone, and get yourself a cute Italian!"

"Buena suerte!"

"But if you hurt Feli, Antoine and I will have to kill you~"

And so, with those wishes of good luck and death threats, Ludwig was shoved up the stairs and out of Gilbert's room. He pulled his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.

"Ciao?"

"Feli, um, would you like to go out sometime?"


	3. You can be the captain and I can be your first mate...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Spain plays dress up and Romano thinks he looks really stupid. Right.

Lovino Vargas wiped his brow as he pushed yet another box of trinkets to the side. When he had agreed to help Spain clean his attic, he didn't think it'd be so much _work._

As he opened another box, he yelled, "Why the hell do you have so much junk up here anyway?"

When he didn't get the expected bullshit response of "It isn't junk, Lovi~", his head shot up. But not because he was worried that Antonio had hurt himself or anything, he just wanted to make sure that the bastard hadn't left him to do all the work. Right.

"… Spagna? Where the fuck are you?"

After a few agonizingly silent moments, Lovino heard several boxes falling and a voice called out, "Over here, Lovinito! And you won't believe what I found~"

Lovino subconsciously let out a sigh of relief and stood, walking towards the sound. "Idiot, I told you to stop playing arou-" The spiel died in Lovino's throat as he saw Antonio.

"Can you believe I still have this? And it still fits too! Not that it wouldn't, since I haven't grown that much and I don't think I'm putting on weight, but still, it's really cool, dontcha think?"

For once in his life, Lovino was at a loss for words. Antonio was decked out in a long, flowing, obnoxiously red coat and a tricorne hat, complete with a ridiculously huge feather—also in bright red. Adding that he was leaning on his old battleaxe, still shiny and embellished with delicate golden designs, Lovino thought he looked absolutely, breathtakingly handsome. Er, I mean, Lovino thought that Spain looked really stupid and not at all attractive. Right.

When Lovino was finally able to tear his eyes away, he cleared his throat and said, "Stop playing dress up and get back to work. I didn't come over here to clean your whole fucking attic by myself."

"But Roma~ Boss looks cool, and it doesn't really need to be clean up here, right? We could play dress up together! It'd be super fun~"

"I'd rather eat Eyebrows' cooking. You can stay over here and act like a fucking bambino, while I actually get shit done."

Lovino turned around to leave, but his way was suddenly blocked by a surprisingly sharp axe. "Pero, mi amado," Antonio's whispered, his breath ghosting over Lovino's neck in a way that did not threaten to send shivers down Lovino's spine at all. Right. "It would make me really happy, and you want to keep boss happy, ¿si? ¿Muy por favor con azúcar en la parte superior?"

Lovino was stuck between a rock and a hard place (Although, he wasn't quite sure which was which. He was leaning towards Antonio being the rock because _hot damn_ those muscles were fucking rock hard, how much did he even work out- er…), so he sighed and turned to face the Spaniard, attempting to ignore both their close proximity and the rising temperature of his face, "I don't really have a choice, do I?'

"Well, you could try to escape. I always have loved the chase~"

"Bastard. Fine, I'll play with you."

Antonio squealed—honest to goodness squealed like a fucking kid in a candy store—and hugged Lovino, "Yay! I think I saw some more crates of clothes over here somewhere…" He let go to quickly kiss Lovino on the nose before rushing off to find more clothes, "I knew you'd see it my way, querido!"

Lovino stood, shocked for a few moments as his cheeks continued to flush akin to his beloved tomatoes, then, "You bastard! Did you just _kiss_ me? What the hell! Get back here!" and he was off, chasing after Spain in the huge attic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Spamano, how I love thee.
> 
> But seriously, I really abused tildes in this chapter and I sincerely apologize. Theyre one of the 4 things I overuse in writing (the other three being the words "really", "super", and "flush"(and don't forget exclamation marks, I use those a lot too).
> 
> Next up (and it's already posted~) is "You can be the chills that I feel on our first date" with a continuation of poor awkward Ludwig and Feli.
> 
> I guess I should do translations, right? You really shouldn't need many, I mean it's given that you should know that Spagna means Spain and bambino means baby and si obviously means yes, but here you go for the harder Spanish-y parts (Note: I translated these myself using two years of high school Spanish, but if I'm wrong, tell me!):
> 
> Pero, mi amado: But, my love (really, amado is just an endearment and it can technically mean dear or darling too I think)
> 
> ¿Muy por favor con azúcar en la parte superior?: Pretty please with sugar on top.
> 
> Querido: Dear (this is the one I will always use for dear but I'm p sure there are other words too)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Fav, follow, review, comment, etc~


	4. You can be the chills that I feel on our first date...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Ludwig continues to be really awkward

There were not many things that scared Ludwig Beilschmidt.

It was something he had pride in. He had always been the one to "save" Gilbert from "monsters" in the dark; the one to never shy away from a challenge.

But, standing on the Vargas' porch—nearly ten minutes early for his date, mind you—holding a bouquet of daisies, Ludwig was completely terrified.

It wasn't like it was his first date, but he'd never been on a date with someone that he consciously really _liked._ He had no idea what to do. Did he knock or ring the bell? Was he supposed to compliment Feliciano when he picked him up or later? Was he supposed to pick out Feliciano's meal for him at the restaurant? It was all too much. Maybe he should just go home and say he came down with the flu or something.

Just as Ludwig had decided to just leave, the door burst open and Gilbert's brunet friend—Antonio, he remembered—came running out, dodging tomatoes that were most likely being thrown by Lovino.

"Adios, mi corazón~ I'll see you tomorrow!" Antonio turned around, ignoring the rapid Italian yelling behind him and noticing Ludwig, "And tell Feli that his date is here!"

Before Ludwig had time to panic, Feliciano was attached to his arm, babbling about how he had worried about Ludwig being late or hurt or something of the sort.

"Er, there was no reason to worry, Feliciano, I'm fine. If you would let go then we could get to the movies, since it starts soon."

"Oh, sure! We wouldn't want to be late, since I know how much you hate being late and everything. Are those pretty flowers for me? Oh Luddy, you didn't have to!" He gladly took the daisies, spinning happily away from Ludwig and towards his car, "Well, actually, you kinda did have to since Lovi and nonno said that's what you were supposed to buy me and if I came home without any then they both probably would've been really mad at you—well, I guess, Lovi would've been a bit madder at you then usual—and I don't want that because I really like you and if they said that we couldn't be together because they were mad then we'd have to become star-crossed lovers like in Romeo and Juliet and I really don't think that dying would be any fun, don't you agree?"

Ludwig blinked, his brain attempting to process the river of words that had just been spoken. "Um, yes?" He breathed a sigh of relief when Feliciano laughed in response, going off on some other tangent, and started driving towards the theater.

Once there, Ludwig was met by another set of problems. The first of which was solved easily by Feliciano skipping up to the counter and just getting snacks for them, but the second was much worse.

After they were settled and the movie had started, he noticed that other couples had their arms around each other or—and Ludwig blushed brightly at the thought of he and Feliciano doing this—were _kissing_. And in a public place! Unable to focus on the movie itself, Ludwig occupied himself with thinking weather or not Feliciano would like it if he wrapped his arm around him, and how he would even go about doing it in the first place (His mind brought up and disregarded Gilbert's advice of fake yawning, leading Ludwig to wish that he had actually paid more attention when his brother was trying to council him. Maybe then he would've known what to do). Or, he was, until Feliciano started nuzzling into his arm and his body naturally responded by moving his arm around the Italian.

Needless to say, Ludwig thanked every deity he could think of for reflexes.

The rest of the movie went by eventlessly, and although there was a few slight moments of panic at the restaurant, Ludwig thought the date was going well and that he might actually get through this alive. Until they arrived back at the Vargas' house.

He walked Feliciano up to the door, like he had seen in the few romantic movies that he had watched, but then came the goodbye.

"So… I really had fun tonight Luddy, we'll have to do this again!"

"Ja, um, soon."

And they stood in awkward silence, Feliciano rocking on his heels and Ludwig wondering if it was possible to die from embarrassment.

"Oh, Luddy," Ludwig looked up from the speck on the porch that he had been staring at into Feliciano's huge amber eyes. "It's okay if you kiss me, you know. Really, I would've thought that you'd studied dating techniques and whatever so you could 'be prepared' and stuff, but I had to initiate _everything._ I mean, its okay since I still like you and I still had fun, but still you could've at least-"

"Feliciano."

"Si?"

"Please stop talking."

"But why- mmpf!" Feliciano was cut off by Ludwig as he pressed what was intended as a chaste kiss to his lips, but as Ludwig tried to pull away, he was stopped. "Nuh-uh, I finally got you to kiss me, you're not getting away that easily~"

And, in that moment, Ludwig wasn't sure if he wanted it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just imagine Germany as an incredibly awkward junior who's had this super obvious crush on Feliciano that literally everyone else noticed since they met in like 6th grade but is just now realizing it, and the Germany you envision will be about half as awkward and dorky as I originally had Ludwig in this chapter. I've toned down the overly awkward ooc Germany for your sake, as to avoid too much second hand embarrassment. But yeah, I have the lovely headcanon that Feli is so much smarter then he lets on (which may or may not be canon, I mean Hima said that Feli is only lazy and really "slow" when he doesn't have motivation) so here you also see Feli steering the date away from disaster as Luddy just flounders around.
> 
> I loved writing this, even though writing for Ludwig is literally painful and I have to get up multiple times from second hand embarrassment, but I still love him~
> 
> Next up (POSTED IN THE SUPER POSTING OF 10/1) is "You can be the hero, I can be your sidekick" with some Halloween usuk (with surprise appearances from the rest of the British Isles!)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Review, comment, fav, follow, etc~


	5. You can be the Hero and I can be your sidekick...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Arthur is pushed into trick-or-treating
> 
>  

It was Halloween.

There was a twinge of excitement in the air even as the street lay empty, a calm before the storm of costumed children to come. All was silent.

"ARTIE, OPEN THE DOOR!"

…Well, almost silent.

Arthur opened the door to see Alfred F. Jones, dressed as Sherlock Holmes—and not even the original, but the modern BBC creation—on his knees, hands clasped, with the second best puppy dog eyes Arthur had ever seen. "Whatever it is, the answer is no."

"But Artie, it'd be awesome and we'd get tons of candy! If not for me, do it for the candy, dude!"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, "I am sixteen years old, Alfred. I have neither the time nor the desire to run around and collect candy with you."

"But you did it last year and-"

"Shut up, idiot!" Arthur cried indignantly, a light blush resting on his cheeks, "You guilted me into that and if any of my annoying siblings find out then I'll never hear the end of it!"

Alfred nodded and Arthur thought he might've seen some malicious glee flash across his face, but Alfred would never-

"Of course, we wouldn't want ALISTAR to know!" Arthur blinked in disbelief. Was this self-proclaimed hero really going to force him into it again? "It would be horrible if ANY OF YOUR BROTHERS OR EVEN CARLIN CAME DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Arthur groaned as his older siblings stampeded down the stairs, pushing Arthur out of the doorway.

"Hey Jones," Carlin high-fived the American, "What's up?"

"Nothing much, but Artie won't go trick-or-treating with me, even though I'm dressed as that weird detective guy he likes."

Dylan examined the costume, "Didn't he wear a weird hat and coat or something?"

"No one cares, Dyl," Seamus rolled his eyes, "The real question is why Art won't go in the first place."

"It's childish and I don't have time for it."

Carlin slapped her brother on the back, "As if you don't do childish things all the time," she paused, clearing her throat before doing a rough imitation of Arthur's voice, "'Oh flying mint bunny, uni, faeries, you're the only ones who really understand me!' Seriously, a kid your age havin' imaginary friends is a bit more childish then trick-or-treatin', dontcha think?"

"They're not imaginary and I do not sound like that!" Arthur yelled, his face flaming, before he regained composure. "And I'm not going."

"Oh, brother dear, why must you always be so difficult?"Alistar sighed melodramatically, turned back to Alfred, winking, "We'll have 'im ready before you can say 'delicious scones'!" and closed the door.

True to their word, Arthur's brothers were shoving him out the door less then five minutes later, in a hastily thrown together John Watson costume, telling him to "Have lots of fun and get lots of candy!"

"One day," Arthur growled out as Alfred pulled him down the street, "I'll curse you all. Then I won't have to waste my evening doing such childish things."

"Come on, it's not a waste if we get to spend time together right?" Arthur flushed pink, spluttering slightly. Did Alfred really value spending time with him that much?

"Plus," The cowlicked blond continued with a wink and a finger gun, "You get to be my super cool sidekick!"

Arthur flushed, out of both embarrassment and rage, "Watson isn't a bloody sidekick, idiot!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a note on the British Isles.
> 
> Alistar is Scotland (you probably got that one, it's pretty consistent fandom wide), Dylan is Wales (I ready don't know, I looked it up and this was the first name I found), Seamus is Northern Ireland, and Carlin is Ireland (I really like Ireland as a girl okay do you know how hard it was to find a female Ireland name)
> 
> I have so many headcanons for them and I just wish I had the motivation to write a fic about the Kirkland family ugh.
> 
> But I digress. The "last year" that Alfie is talking about is referring to the Halloween strip because my perfect moirail reminded me of the usuk moment in there. Also, Alfred is dressed as Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock because he tries so hard to impress Arthur but when it comes down to it, he ultimately fails because he knows nothing about British culture/ television shows/ books and its really sad actually.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, as I really enjoyed writing it (but ugh there's so much dialogueeeeeee) and I finished it before the last two chapters, even though I should technically be working on these in chronological order as to when I have to release them.
> 
> Next up is "You can be the tears that I cry if we ever split" and it will be some nice sad fruk with a potentially happy ending. It should be done by next Wednesday but I really don't know (I have Homecoming coming up so I have to get ready for that and find shoes and nail polish and money and jewelry so I won't be working on any more writing after I finish the ones that come before this one)
> 
> Review, comment, favorite, follow, etc~


	6. You can be the tear that I cry if we ever split...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Sweden leaves.

"Yo-you're leaving?"

The servants had been packing up his stuff for weeks now, but Finland had refused to believe it. But now, as he stood in his front hall in the middle of the night with a blanket draped across his shoulders, he had to face the truth.

The truth was that Sweden wasn't strong enough to keep fighting off Russia. The truth was that Sweden was pulling out of the war. The truth was that Sweden had intended to let him to wake up alone.

"S'rry."

Finland looked at his toes. He couldn't look up. Looking up would mean acknowledging how _tired_ that Sweden looked. How _utterly defeated_.

"You don't have to be. I'm just a bit… surprised."

He wasn't surprised. Upset, betrayed, hopeless, _heartbroken_ ; there were a thousand words to describe what Finland was feeling and none of them were anything close to surprised. This was expected. Unwanted, but expected nonetheless.

"Cant you…" Finland fumbled with the words, the _feelings_ , "Can't you wait, at least until morning?"

Sweden shook his head and Finland's heart plummeted. "I h've t' go now. I've b'n h're too long alre'dy. 'Nd I th'ught… I th'ught it'd be easier if I was g'ne b'fore you woke up."

"I-I see. Well, you should at least take some food with you." Finland forced on a smile and ran back to the kitchen, wrapping up some of the leftover deer before returning to the hall. "Here. It'll be cold, but it's better than nothing, right?"

"R'ght. Th'nks."

Sweden's facial expressions were barely noticeable, but Finland had known him long enough-had loved him long enough-that he could tell that he was smiling slightly. He could also tell that he was close to tears, but his decided to ignore that.

"Goodbye, Berwald." He clung to Sweden, hoping, praying, wishing, that everything would be okay. That Russia would give up and that Sweden could stay and that everything could go back to normal and it would be just him and Sweden forever. But Finland had learned long ago that wishes never came true.

"G'dbye, T'no," Sweden pulled away, and Finland pretended not to notice the tear sliding down his cheek, " _Jag kommer alltid att älska dig_."

After kissing Finland on the forehead, Sweden was gone, face glistening with silent tears. In the aftermath, Finland sunk to the ground, buried his head in his arms, and sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so that was sad. I've never written angst or sufin before, as I'm sure you can tell.
> 
> I actually did (minor) research for this one, and Sweden finally gave up their claim to Finland in 1809 after years of war with Russia, so I thought I could exploit this and finally get around to writing this.
> 
> Also, I'm super sorry that this took so long, I couldn't do the fruk and then I just couldn't find time to write because of APUSH (don't take AP US History kids, it's horrible) and school and ugh, but I got ht by a car on Friday, so I had a bunch of free time where I couldn't leave my bed and my mom refused to let me use my phone, and I decided to put it to good use.
> 
> The one Swedish phrase that is said at the end means "I will always love you" and is Google translated. The apostrophes in Sweden's speech are completely random and I'm sorry if they annoy you.
> 
> Next up (Posted today!) is "You can be the rain from the cloud when it's stormin'" with actual fruk.


	7. You can be the rain from the cloud when it's stomin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where rain interrupts France and England's date, not that they mind.

"Well, at least it's not the worst date we've ever been on, non?"

"This _isn't_ a bloody date, frog."

England and France sat on a bench, huddled beneath an umbrella as they prayed that the rain would die out soon.

"Oh, of course, _mon lapin_ ," France rolled his eyes, "We just went on a completely platonic walk in the park after having a completely platonic picnic together. _Obviously_ not a date."

England scowled-although the effect was ruined by the fantastic blush that spread across his face-and punched France. "Don't call me 'your bunny'," He hissed, and added as an afterthought, "And shut up, you wanker."

"You wound me, _Angleterre_ , but," France purred, leaning in to whisper to his companion, "we both know that I'd never have to be a 'wanker' with someone as eager as yourself around."

After an indignant squeal of "Git!" from England and a pained yell from a suddenly soaked France (Who had most definitely deserved it), the two settled into a semi-comfortable silence. At least until France ruined it.

"Ever been kissed in the rain, _mon cher_?"

England, who had been very much relaxed, jumped slightly and scowled more, "No, you idiot, that kind of thing only happens in romance novels and corny movies."

"Well then," France stood, taking the umbrella with him, "I think that something must be done about that."

England turned red and stood as France's eyes sparkled with amusement, "I'm not kissing you in public, and in the sodding rain, no less!"

"Quite sorry," France apologized even as he drifted closer, "I would never want to impose."

"You better be sorry, git." And, unless France's imagination was acting up again, England seemed to be leaning closer too.

" _Bien sûr, mon cher_." France's words ghosted over England's lips, before completely capturing them and proceeding to drop the umbrella.

They both would be horribly sick the next week, but neither would regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was painful. I just can't write fruk. I try so hard, but I just can't write it. I'm sorry.
> 
> But regardless, I hope you enjoyed this.
> 
> Translationwise, it's mostly endearments, but "Bien sûr" means "of course".
> 
> Next is "You can be the sun wen it is shines in the morning", which will most likely be giripan


	8. Or you can be the sun when it shines in the  mornin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Heracles is sick and the author doesn't know how to Kiku.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! New thing, hover over words to translate because I just learned this cool coding thing~

Greece was sick.

Not that this was a new occurrence--nowadays it seemed like he was either too sick to leave the house or being chewed out by Germany--but recently his life of ever present sickness had gotten a new addition.

"ああ！" Heracles heard the sound of soft feet quickly making their way towards the bedroom that the mediterranean nation had been banished into, "Heracles-san, why are there cats in your cabinets?"

Greece sighed happily as he looked up at Japan (and even if it did turn into a coughing fit halfway though, it was the thought that counted, right?). Kiku had shown up last week and, after Heracles almost face planted into his porch due to a dizzy spell, had ordered Heracles into bed, declaring that he was going to be assisting him until his recuperation.

And so he had. Kiku was there: Staying in the rarely used guest room, telling him to "Lay back down, because although I cannot hope to cure your sickness, I am not going to let you work yourself into an even worse state", making soup and fish with honey and tea, fussing about the ridiculous locations in which you could find the many stray cats sleeping. And, even if a nation's sickness couldn't be curbed, Heracles found himself feeling ever so slightly better.

"Because," Heracles replied matter-of-factly, "you said that they couldn't sleep under the sink anymore, and it's too bright everywhere else for them to take their pre-sunset nap."

A beat of silence, in which the island nation rolled his beautiful brown eyes and Heracles reveled in the fact that Kiku was comfortable enough with him to drop the extensive politeness, then Kiku spoke again. "When I discouraged them from sleeping there, I didn't mean that I wanted them leaving hair all over your previously clean dishes while I'm trying to make food."

"Then you should've been more specific about where you wanted them to sleep then."

And as Kiku leaves, shaking his head and muttering in Japanese, Heracles decides that being sick may not be so bad if he has Kiku to take care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY
> 
> I'm only a sophomore but I'm taking two junior classes (chem and algebra 2) and an AP class (US History) and the hardest elective ever (Computer programming) and I'm co-writing another fic with my moirail (It's called "Soul Searching", look it up on here or on ao3) and have like no free time now. I haven't even been on my tumblr in like three weeks. Regardless of that, I do have 2 more chapters half finished, so the next update might be here by new years!
> 
> Anywho, this chapter killed me because I love giripan, but I can't write it for the life of me (although I think Greece is good, but my Japan could use a lot of work) but I had no other ideas for this chapter. Like, this literally barely relates to the line, and it only does because Japan is the land where the sun rises (I almost did a spamano bc land where the sun never sets, but I didn't. Be proud), so I apologize for horribleness.
> 
> Next is "You can be the prince and I can be the princess" and is going to be amerikraine (Aka the ship you guys didn't know I shipped)


	9. You can be the prince and I can be the princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yekaterina is cold and Matthew is a polar bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Hi! 
> 
> God, this is late, but oh well.  Hover over words to translate.
> 
>  **IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED FROZEN YET**  (Then I am ashamed. Go watch it right now. It's fantastic), **DON'T READ THIS CHAPTER. THIS CHAPTER IS A SPOOF OF FROZEN** (since I loved that movie so much)  **AND EVEN THOUGH I LEFT OUT A BUNCH OF PARTS FROM THE MOVIE, IT'LL STILL RUIN IT OKAY. DON'T DO IT BRO.**

Cold. Cold settled into Yekaterina’s bones, effortlessly slipping past the thin, wet fabric of her fancy ceremonial dress as she trekked through the sudden, very cold, very dark winter in search for her sister. _This is my fault_ , her thoughts swirled around her head like snow in the storm, _I have to fix this._ Just as her resolve began to falter, she saw a light in the distance.

With her strength suddenly renewed, she began to trudge forward through the snow. As she neared the light--Which, to Yekaterina’s delight, was from a cabin, and one with a rather large chimney on top--she heard some… she supposed the could call it singing, if she was being liberal with descriptions.

_“Polar bears are better than people~ Matt, don’t you think that’s true?”_

Polar bears? Yekaterina was now a few yards from the cabin, and was very confused about why someone was singing about polar bears of all things.

 _“Eh,”_ Another voice, quieter and slightly higher, sang back, _“People will beat you and curse you and cheat you; everyone of ‘em’s bad, except you.”_

As both of the people in the house prepared to sing the next line, Yekaterina knocked on the door. A young man with disheveled looking blond hair answered the door. “What’s haps?”

Yekaterina furrowed her brows in confusion, “‘What’s haps’? Oh! Well, I’m sorry for disturbing your… singing, but it’s rather cold and I have to find my sister, so I was just wondering if you’d give me refuge for the night.” She looked up to see the stranger looking at her oddly and began to panic. “But if it’s too much of a bother, I mean, I’m sure I could find somewhere else… eventually…”

“No, no, it’s no problem dudette! It’s just that…” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “I dunno if you noticed, but the new queen went batshit and kind of started a huge snowstorm; shouldn’t you be looking for your sis if she’s out there in this?”

Yekaterina paused. The fact that the “batshit” queen was her sister, and that she may be impervious to the cold, might be slightly off putting to the man. And besides, she could still hear the duke’s screeches of fear echoing in her mind. “Ah, I suppose so… but it can wait until tomorrow, can’t it?”

The man’s eyes widened comically, “Look lady, I don’t know who you are, but I, Alfred F. Jones, am a _hero_. I can’t leave a poor maiden to freeze out there! We are leaving right now to find your sister or whatever,” He finished with his hands on his hips in what Yekaterina supposed was a heroic stance, before turning back inside, “Yo Matt, grab a coat for blondie and get your mapley ass out here!”

Alfred led her to a sleigh and shortly after, a gigantic polar bear came hobbling out of the cabin.

“боже мій,” Yekaterina gasped, “That’s a _polar bear_.”

“Yeah! That’s Matt. Matt, meet… uh…”

Yekaterina froze. She couldn’t tell him her real name, because, even if he was incredibly rural, he had to have heard princesses’ names, and she couldn’t stand another accusing face.

“Um, my name is…”

Fuzzy memories flashed in her mind: snow dancing around her, snowflakes forming a miniature crown atop her head, _“Hi, my name is Ivan Braginski, and I like warm hugs!”_ , her sister skating by in her nightgown, the tinkling laughter of children, _“Try to keep up, Katyusha!”_

“Katyusha. I’m Katyusha Braginskaya.”

“Then Matt, meet Katyusha.”

Matt held out a large paw and Yekaterina hesitantly took it, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Matt.”

Yekaterina nearly jumped when he lightly growled, but settled as he moved to the front of the sled.

“Now that we’re all acquainted, off we go!”

And Yekaterina was pulled off on her first polar bear drawn sleigh ride.

* * *

“My sleigh!” Alfred lay dramatically on the snow-ridden ground, bemoaning the loss of his beloved sled.

“Oh Fredka, I’m so sorry. I-I‘ll buy you a new one… and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to travel with me anymore…”

“Just... Give me a second to think, okay?”

As she walked off, Alfred felt Matt pawing at his head. “ _Matt,_ ” He drew out the “a” as he whined, “Go away and let me mourn the Snow Force One.” He opened one eye to see that the bear looked like he wasn’t going to be going anywhere anytime soon.

 _“But Al,”_ He upped the pitch and lowered the tone of his voice, speaking in time with the movements of the bear, _“She’ll freeze out there alone, eh?”_

“My sled is gone, and I’m sure she can survive on her own. Or, even better, she could just navigate her way back to Europa and get her ‘True Love’ to help her. ”

 _“Because she’s actually in love with that Arthur guy. Don’t be a hoser, Al. And besides,”_ Alfred paused as Matt’s movements did, dreading what he thought Matt was going to say next, _“That’s not very heroic of you.”_

“Goddammit Matt.” Alfred sighed, but stood and turned to the direction Katyusha had run off to anyway, yelling, “Hold on, we’re coming.”

~~~

“привет!”

Alfred let out a decidedly unheroic squeak as a huge snowman appeared out of nowhere.

“Who the hell are you?”

The snowman giggled, like a fucking child, and just continued to grin creepily at Alfred. “My name is Ivan!”

“I-Ivan?”

Alfred looked over at Katyusha and was surprised to see her eyes watering. _Oh shit,_ he thought, _she’s crying. What do you do with crying girls?_

“Ivan, did my… my queen make you?”

The snowman’s grin widened, “да, Natalia created me a few scenes ago--while you were meeting the American, she had an epic musical number about letting her powers go--but she won’t know I exist until the next time skip!”

“What?”

Ivan blinked innocently back at their confused looks. “What?”

“I just thought you said…” Alfred shook his head, “Nevermind. But do you know where she went? We want to bring back summer.”

“Summer?” The snowman’s eyes lit up, “I’ve never seen summer but I’ve always dreamed about it. A time where people frolic and sunflowers flourish and it’s not always so cold.”

Ivan shivered--which was really odd, since he was, you know, _made of snow_ \--and Katyusha delicately wrapped her own scarf around his neck.

“I suppose you’ve never experienced heat before then, snowie.”

“нет, but we can all become one and experience heat together, right comrade?”

The way that the smile widened was extremely creepy, and Alfred laughed awkwardly and slowly led Katyusha out of Ivan’s earshot.

“We’re not taking him.”

“But Fredka,” Her eyes began to water again and oh my god, she had to know what she was doing, it was impossible that she didn’t, “He’s all alone and he knows where my si- the queen is and he’s so cute and he wouldn’t do any harm, please?”

Alfred attempted to find it in his heart to deny the girl, but he just couldn’t. “Fine. But he’s your responsibility, got it?”

“Oh yes! Thank you so much, you won’t regret it!”

And with that she ran back to retrieve the snowman and Matt. She and Ivan were happily chittering in some weird language that he didn’t understand.

This is going to be a long trip.

* * *

 

“Natalia, you’re coming back, yes?”

Yekaterina was freaking out. Natalia had let her in, for once, but she didn’t seem to know or care about the eternal winter that Europa had been plunged into.

Natalia arched a brow, “Back? After the townspeople basically chased me out of town chanting about sorcery? Why would I go back?”

“Oh, so you don’t know.”

“What don’t I know?”

“Well, it’s just that-”

At that moment, the door fell inward and Alfred and Ivan tumbled into the room.

“Uh, hi.”

A beat of silence as everyone stared at each other, and then, “Katyusha, if this is another person that you’re ‘in love’ with then I swear I’m locking you back out.”

“That is _so_ unfair! What Arthur and I have is True Love and I don’t see why you can’t accept it.”

“Because I’m your older sister and I have-”

“Wait, ‘older sister’? But Katyusha, you’re not the princess, right?”

“Uh,” Yekaterina nervously wrung her hands, looking around for a distraction, “Oh! Natas-I mean, my queen, did you see Ivan?”

All attention was immediately redirected to the large snowman.

“Ivan? I-I made you?”

“Yep!”

Natalia walked around him, examining and noting his features, until she came to a stop right in front of him, grabbing his stick arms. “Marry me.”

The chorus of “What!?” from everyone else was nearly instantaneous.

“It makes sense. I obviously subconsciously created you so that I won’t be completely alone after I send сястра back down the mountain to live her own life,” Ignoring Yekatrina’s indignant cry, she continued, “So marry me. Marry me, marry me, marry me! Marry me, so we can be together forever when everyone else goes back to enjoy the summer.”

Yekaterina felt her heart twist as the snowman’s expression became increasingly more panicked and terrified. This was her fault and she had to fix it. “Ah, about that. I’m not quite sure how to put this lightly, but dear sister, Europa is kind of… completely and utterly frozen through. An eternal winter, if you will.”

The next few seconds were chaotic. First, Natalia stopped her chanting of “Marry me” before collapsing on the ground in sobs. Secondly, Ivan bolted out the door and, presumably down the ice stairs to join Matt. Finally, Alfred turned to Yekaterina with completely heartbroken look in his eyes and whispered, so low that she barely heard it, “Sisters… you are the princess. You lied to me.”

“Fredka... Natasha… E-everyone just-”

“No!” Natalia suddenly ceased her sobs and shot out a blast of magic. Time seemed to slow as it went straight for Yekaterina, and as it collided with her chest, she crumpled unto the ground

“I’m…” Yekaterina struggled to feet, leaning heavily on the wall, “I’m fine.”

Natalia stood, a miniature snow storm surrounding her, “Leave, Yekaterina. You’re not safe here. I thought I had tamed the storm inside, but I’ve only made it worse and I have no idea how to fix it.”  
“But Natasha, we can fix this toget-”

“Leave,” Natalia waved her hand and a large monster made of ice and snow appeared,”Leave and never return.”

And with that they were unceremoniously tossed outside.

* * *

 

“Guys!” Alfred attempted to get the attention of his friends to no avail. After Katyusha--Princess Yekaterina, he reminded himself, not Katyusha--and he had been thrown out, they realized that not only was her body temperature outrageously low, but her hair was becoming stark white, streak by streak. As a solution, Alfred had led her to see his friends--family really, they _had_ raised him--the trolls, sure that Elizabeta would be able to help. Unfortunately, when they got there, Eliza was out and the bad touch trio was in.

“Oh, chéri,” Francis cooed, completely ignoring Alfred, “You _are_ gorgeous. Why Alfred didn’t bring you here earlier is a mystery.”

Katyusha (Yekaterina, Princess Yekaterina, _Princess Yekaterina of Europa_ ) flushed at the compliment, “No, no, Fredka and I aren’t-”

“Oh, oh, Gil did you hear that?” Antonio bounced happily, interrupting her mid-sentence, “ _She_ calls her boyfriend a pet name too!”

Gilbert rolled his eyes, “That’s because she’s a _girl_. If you wanted to find a girl who calls their lieb a stupid nickname, then you could’ve just asked Eliza. She’s always calling Specs mushy names.”

“Oh yeah? Well I think that you’re just bit-”

“Mon amis,” Francis cut into the ensuing argument, “I think we’re forgetting the real issue here.”

 _Thank god_ , Alfred thought, _finally someone who cares about why we came here._

“We still don’t know how cher Alfred got his hands on such a… robust and royal young woman.”

Alfred slammed a palm to his forehead. Was it too much to ask for the infamous trio to actually be serious for once?

“Ah, si! Señorita, if you don’t mind us asking, why did you settle for Alfredo?”

“We’re not,” Katy-Princess Yekaterina’s flush deepened exponentially as she waved her hands about, “We’re not together! Well... we’re together, but not _together_ , like you imply.”

The trio blinked multiple times, and turned towards each other, seemingly communicating silently, until simultaneously asking, “Why?”

Before either could answer, Gilbert held up a hand, “Ah, I know. It’s because of the weird talking to the bear thing, right? I told you guys that we should’ve stopped that when he was growing up, but no, ‘He’ll grow out of it,’ you said, ‘It’s not that weird, oui?’. I was _so_ fucking right.”

“Non, non,” Francis shook his head, “She’s holding back her affections due to his ridiculously short hair. I knew that I should’ve never let Gilbert cut it. Oh poor Alfred, Je suis désolé, s'il vous plaît pardonnez papa!”

“Francis, there’s no need for you to cry, because the real reason that this chica precioso is opposed to Alfred is the hero complex that _I_ encouraged with all those silly pirate stories!”

“Oh, no, no, it’s not your fault!” Yekaterina looked between the sobbing men and Alfred with those gigantic blue eyes and looked utterly panicked.

“Nein, Prinzessin,” Even Gilbert was tearing up now and Alfred had to resist the urge to slam all their heads together, “We’re just horrible parents!”

“Guys! She’s not with me because _she is engaged to someone else!_ ”

The simultaneous and over dramatic sighs of disappointment from the trio made Alfred roll his eyes, “Now, look we came here because-”

Yekaterina chose that moment to collapse in a fit of shivers. As Alfred caught her, his hands tingled from the chill that unnaturally radiated from her body. The grove fell eerily quiet.

“What’s this about there being a hercegnő in the valley?”

Alfred laid Yekaterina’s shivering body onto the ground, and turned to face the new presence. “Miss Elizaveta, Princess Yekaterina went to try and calm her sister and now… well, now you can see what happened.”  
Elizaveta hummed softly, circling the cold body and lightly poking it with her frying pan. “It’s her heart. I can’t do anything,” She looked up to Alfred apologetically, “If it was anywhere else, I could just beat the cold out of it, but a frozen heart can only be cured by an act of True Love.”

“Like a True Love’s kiss?” Francis suddenly appeared next to Elizabeta, slipping an arm over her shoulder.

“Yes, idióta,” She swung her frying pan at the blond, effectively knocking him away from her person, “A True Love’s kiss is exactly what she needs.”

Six pairs of eyes turned to Alfred expectantly.

“For the last time, she is engaged and in love with someone else! I’m not kissing her!”

“Who isn’t kissing whom?” Yekaterina shakily asked, rubbing her arms to keep warm as she recovered from her faint.

“Uh, no one. Well, you’re going to kiss Arthur to cure your frozen heart, but otherwise,” he turned back towards the trolls, glaring, “No one is kissing anyone. Especially not anyone who’s already in love.”

* * *

 

“Arthur, y-you have to kiss me!”

Yekaterina clung to her fiance, sucking his body heat into her nearly frozen body and attempting to get closer to his lips that would save her. “I nuh-need a True Love’s ka-kiss to s-save me.”

Arthur “oh”-ed in understanding and began to lean down. Yekaterina closed her eyes and pursed her lips, waiting for the contact of her first kiss. A few seconds went by and she cracked open her eyes to see Arthur just looking at her, a vindictive smirk on his face and his magnificent green eyes looking darker than before.

“It’s a shame then, that you don’t have anyone who loves you.”

“What?” Yekaterina croaked, her eyes watering, “Buh-but you said you loved me.”

Arthur tutted softly, “Dear, I have four older brothers, all of which are much stronger than I. Eliminating them all would take so much effort and time that, by the time I was in charge of Britannia, I would be an old man. But with Europa,“ He walked over to the fire, putting it out and plunging the room into darkness and even more cold, “I just had to pretend to be in love with you for one night and voila, I’m next in line for the throne! And you even unwittingly helped: by trying to go after the queen and basically freezing yourself to death, you’ve eliminated yourself, and by revealing your sister as a sorceress, you eliminated her. In fact, I think I'll have her executed after I deal with you.”

“W-why?”

Arthur paused, then, after opening the windows to let the snow and cold wind in, he smiled at her. “So I can be the sole ruler of Europa, of course!” He produced a key from his jacket, “Hm, this room is getting rather frosty. I suppose I shall leave you to you’re own devices, yes? Goodbye Yekaterina, it was lovely using you!”

And he was gone, and even though the lock had clicked, Yekaterina still crawled to the door and attempted to turn the handle.

She weakly cried out, “H-help… puh-please, someone… help…”

As all hope was lost and she was sure that she was going to die, alone and frozen, on the floor of a forgotten room in the castle, the door knob jiggled and Ivan entered.

“Oh, hello Katyusha! Where’s Arthur? Did you already get your kiss?”

Yekaterina shook her head, “Ca-can you start a f-fire?”

* * *

 

Love. Even the thought sent the butterflies in his stomach into a frenzy. He, Alfred Franklin Jones, self-proclaimed hero of everywhere, hadn’t believed in love before today. In fact, that morning he had woken up and, after watching the mother praying mantis that lived on his porch devour her fifth husband, had declared loudly to anyone in the vicinity (aka Matt, Ms Praying Mantis and her children, and an assortment of other forest creatures) that love was ridiculous and anyone in love was going to end up like Mr. Praying Mantis the fifth--attacked and abandoned, and without a head for your troubles.

Love was just the main plot point in the silly stories that Gil and Fran and Toni used to tell him when he was growing up: The dashing hero always had loving parents or friends or pets that cared for him (and that always met a horribly gruesome death a la Gilbert’s imagination), and, of course, there was the beautiful princess for whom the hero would do anything, because they had True Love (and the phrase had to be capitalized; the way that Francis and Antonio always said it, with dreamy sighs and far away eyes, implied importance that needed to be capitalized). Alfred may’ve pretended that he was actually a character from one of those stories (Why else, he had reasoned when he was young, would anyone leave such a cute kid and a polar bear behind in the ice flows, if not because they had a greater purpose?), but he very well knew that some gorgeous princess wasn’t going to burst into his life and fall in love with him.

At least, he thought he knew. Before that day. On that day, the summer, which was a mite too hot for his tastes, had screeched to a halt and let way to a sudden blizzard. On that day, a beautiful girl appeared on his porch looking for her sister and a place to stay. And Alfred knew the tell tale signs of love--his trio of caretakers had been sure to educate him in that--but he had pushed them to the side. Who needed love when you had adventure and a sleigh and a polar bear? That’s right, no one. But after that day, Alfred had experienced the greatest adventure ever and he had lost his sleigh, and I mean, what can you do with only a polar bear? But he still didn’t think he needed love. Well, not until he had gotten back up the hill and Matt had started pushing him back down--even though Alfred insisted that he was okay, because he had helped a fair maiden find True Love, what did it matter if he was happy? Sometimes a hero had to sacrifice--ordering him to _Go get the girl, Al! What kind of hero are you if you let her run off with someone who’s obviously not her real True Love?_

And that was why Alfred was running across the frozen ocean, fighting through the storm that surrounded the castle, blindly chasing after his shot at True Love.

“... edka…”

Alfred’s head shot up. “Katyusha?”

A cry of relief reached his ears over the scream of the wind. “Fredka!”

The storm seemed to divide, allowing him to view Yekaterina, wrapped in a shawl, her hair almost completely white, as she struggled to walk. “Oh my god, Katyusha!”

He began to run towards her, his mind dimly registering a conversation going on to his right. But he didn’t care what other maniac was out here, just as long as he could get to Yekaterina. But, as he was yards away, she looked at him with a pained expression, mouthed ‘I am sorry,’ then summoned up all her energy to run towards the other people.

Alfred turned just in time to see the look of surprise become permanently etched on her face as she turned to solid ice.

* * *

 

_“No!”_

Cold. Cold settled into Yekaterina’s bones, colder than anything she had ever known. She attempted to open her eyes and realized that 1: She had eyes and ears, 2: Her eyes were already open and she couldn’t remember ever closing them or ever feeling the need to close them, and 3: She could see and hear. Her sight was like looking through a pair of glasses not prescribed to you and her hearing was as if she was stuck behind a door, locked out while the rest of the world conversed, but it was there, and that was all that mattered in Yekaterina’s tiny sphere of consciousness.

Until she heard a voice. It was closer to a sob, and even though Yekaterina had no idea who was speaking it, she strained to hear.

_“No... My fault… Poor Katyusha… Forgive me…”_

That voice… Yekaterina strained her mind, trying to remember where she had heard that voice before...

_“Natasha!” Yekaterina wailed from where she was lying on the cold, hard ground. She had fallen on the ice, and although she wasn’t seriously injured, it still hurt._

_“Katyusha!” The voice rang out. A young girl, that Yekaterina could vaguely recognize as her sister, skated over quickly, “Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here, I’ve got you.”_

Her sister! The memories came rushing back to Yekaterina, filling a void that she didn’t know she had.

 _I’m frozen!_ She internally panicked as her sisters cries continued to reach her ears, _No, Natalia, don’t cry, it’s okay, I love you._

As soon as she thought that, she began to feel warmer. It began in her heart, slowly fluttering outwards until she was completely free of the cold.

She looked down at Natalia’s shocked face, smiling brightly despite the tears filling her eyes, “An act of True Love!” She pulled her sister into a hug as tears of joy began streaming down her face, “I love you too, Natasha”

After the sister’s embrace ended, Natalia smiled, “Love, huh? That must be it then, the secret to thawing.”

Natalia focused intently, then rose her hands. With her hands, all the snow and ice began to congregate, like water droplets on oil, then slowly rose off of the ground and into the sky. Once all of the winter had joined together into a cloud, Natalia quickly waved her hands and the cloud dispersed, effectively bringing back summer.

* * *

 

“Come on, come on!”

Alfred was being pulled through the streets by Yekaterina, wearing a blindfold.

“Well sorry if it’s a bit hard to go fast when you can’t see!”

Yekaterina slowed, “Ah, sorry Fredka, I’m just really excited and- here we are!”

Alfred felt her delicate hands undo the knot and he opened his eyes, lifting a hand to shield them from the sun, and wow.

“You got me a sleigh!” Alfred ran towards it, inspecting it and marveling at how beautiful it was.

Yekaterina laughed, “I promised you a new one, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think I’d actually get it!” He lifted Yekaterina up and spun her around, “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! Katyusha, you’re the best. I could just kiss you right now!”

Alfred froze, his face slowly flushing as he processed his words, “Uh, I mean, I’d like to kiss you… if you want to kiss, I mean…”

Yekaterina giggled and reached up to gently kiss him. “I want nothing more, Fredka.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOUDLY APOLOGIZES! 
> 
> I am  _the_ worst author ever, but I went to Flordia and the beach and then my computer was being all wonky and I couldn't think of how to finish it and the deep freeze that attacked the US and I just. Sorry bros.
> 
> Anywho, I actually really like how this chapter came out (I love Amerikraine and Frozen so much) and it's the longest one here so far. I obviously need to work on my Belarus, but I think my Ukraine was good even if my America was off at some points. In case you didn't know, Natasha is a nickname for Natalia and Katyusha is a nickname for Yekaterina. 
> 
> In the scene with the bad touch trolls, I had to cut so much dialogue out because I had Gilbert and Antonio actually go on with the argument about what constitutes as overly mushy and lovey-dovey and what doesn't but I took up like a page with it and it didn't add to the plot so I had to take it out (At the place where I had Francis cut it off, Antonio is about to call Gilbert bitter. It's true, in this universe, because the flying pangle exsisted but Elizabeta eventually chose Roderich, but it's still not a nice thing to say).
> 
> Also, you may've noticed that I stole the nickname that Russia usually calls America in RusAme fics (Fredka). 
> 
> Bite me.
> 
> Next up (hopefully soon) is "You can be the sweet tooth and I can be the dentist" with wither SwissBel or Spamano. 


	10. You can be the sweet tooth and I can be the dentist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lotte makes Vash's kokoro go doki doki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a note, I used Lotte for Belgium's human name because: 
> 
> 1\. I didnt want to use Belle/Bella/Bell. 
> 
> 2\. I like Lotte more than Femke. 
> 
> 3\. Well, as for reason 3, you'll see~ it's really dumb okay.
> 
> On a completely unrelated note, Lotte is both a Dutch and a German name, and can be pronounced two different ways, but for the sake of this fic, we're gonna go with Lot-aa.
> 
> Also, Schokolade is pronounced sho-co-laa-da.

She never got in on time. She barely did her job. She would come into his office uninvited randomly; always bearing gifts, always giggling and charming, always with that _verdammt_ bright and beautiful smile

"Good afternoon, Vash!" And there she was--in a professional-looking, blue, pin-striped skirt suit that complimented her eyes, complete with a matching headband, purse, and heels--flouncing into his office and seating herself on the edge of his desk, like she belonged there. "Chocolate? I made them myself~"

Her name was Lotte Peeters, and she was Vash Zwingli's personal kryptonite.

Before he had met Lotte, the only person who could manipulate Vash into doing something was his younger sister, Lily. He was happy that way, especially since he could also guilt Lily out of guilting him with the "I raised you almost completely by myself, you know" card. All that changed, however, when his second-in-command's secretary suggested Lotte to him. _"You cant just continue controlling your schedule all by yourself, sir!"_ She had claimed as she played with the flower in her hair, _"And besides, Mr. Roderich is worried that you'll become a recluse if you only talk to him, Lily, and myself. Someone new will be nice for you, and I know just the girl!"_

"Ah, well, I really shouldn't, Miss Peeters," He began to wave her away, silently commanding himself not to look up, _Verdammt Vash, if you look up then its all over! You don't even like sweets, have some self control, you spineless bescheuert sitzpinkler!_ But, like always, he did look at her and, like always, she was pouting and her eyes--Gorgeous green orbs, should be illegal for anyone to have such pretty eyes--were wide and sad and _Gott im Himmel, you're going to give in again, aren't you?_ "B-but I suppose that just this once, I can indulge."

She brightened and leaped from her perch on the desk to hug him, leading Vash's skin to tingle and his face to turn deep red. "Oh thank you, Vash, I just love making chocolate but I have no one to give it to and it's so kind that you take it and thank you so much!"

It really shouldn't have been this way. If you asked anyone, they would tell you that Vash Zwingli was the strict CEO of Flinte Banking and Loans, a no-nonsense man who would kill you if you even looked at Lily. (Well, if you asked anyone except Lily or Lotte (It's rumored that Lotte once heard some employees talking about their bosses disposition, and she proceeded to lecture them for a good 40 minutes on what a "kind and sweet and handsome" guy Vash was. If you mention this incident to Vash, he will not only blush brilliantly, but he will also glare at you so coldly that absolute zero would look nice and toasty)) Vash had known, the second she had waltzed in that first morning--without knocking--when he was talking to Lily, wearing a red dress shirt (which, in Vash's opinion, had looked wonderful on her. Red always was her color) and a black knee-length skirt. She had smiled at Lily and handed him a box of homemade cheese ( _"No problem, Boss, I'm just so glad that I could have the opportunity to work with you!" "Ah, Miss Peeters, you don't have to call me 'Boss'..." "Okay, Vash! And you can call me Lotte, okay?" "W-wait, Miss Peeters! Lotte! That's not what I meant!"_ ), and Lily had giggled at his dumbstruck face and how nice he had been to her, "Especially compared to the other employees, big bruder". Even as he vehemently denied Lily's accusations, he had suspected that any attempts of resistance against Lotte Peeters were futile, and he had been proving himself right everyday since.

"It was no problem," He patted her back awkwardly, pausing shortly to debate something with himself, even if he knew what the outcome would be. "...Lotte."

She pulled back and grinned at the use of her name, a dazzling, admiring grin that made Vash feel like the most important man in the world. She quickly scribbled a set of numbers on a post-it and stuck it too the desk as Vash grew redder. "Alrighty, Vash, well I have more work to do, as I'm sure you do, so I'll have my phone if you need anything!"

And she was gone, but, like the sun behind a cloud on a hot day, he could still feel his warmth radiating through him, even if she was hidden from his view. 

_Meine Schoko_ Lotte _, the cause of my sweet tooth._

**~~~OMAKE~~~**

Lotte Peeters raced down the hallways of Flinte's main office, almost tripping over her feet. She didn't stop until she reached the unofficial headquarters of the secretaries of the higher uos, the only break room in the building with a couch and no coffee machine.

"Veta, Veta, Veta, Veta!" She grasped the hands of her best friend, Elizaveta Herdervary, and jumped up and down.

Another one of her friends tittered in amusement from the couch as she retied her pigtails. "Chill, Lots, _breathe_."

"But, Veta, Chelly, I can't! Vash took my chocolate even though I know he doesn't really like sweets and she hugged me--well, I sort of hugged him and he just hugged me back, but still!--and he called me Lotte to my face and without the 'Miss' and I'm so excited, oh mijn God, meisjes!"

The trio of secretaries squealed and then put the rest of the work day to good use: using all that time to start planning Lotte's wedding, even if it was a bit premature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schololade is German for chocolate. That's the only translation you're getting.
> 
> Okay I would apologize for that pun but I liked it and I've been waiting to use it for _forever!_ And by forever I mean since I started shipping swissbel and saw a fic where she name was Lotte and my younger sister called her friend whose name is Charlotte, "Choclotte".
> 
> The omake is from a trashed version of this drabble that was in Lotte's pov and both the beginning and end were way over extended and it was drawn out and long and painful to read, so I scrapped it.
> 
> Also, I have an really bad concussion from getting hit by a car in Novemeber and then going back to school and taking AP classes and exams almost immediately after. So! I'm out of school via doctor's orders, and im not allowed to use the computer or watch tv or read or do anything that stimulates my brain too much, but I've managed to get 30 minutes a day from my mom plus whenever I sneak on. It'll probs be a while until the next Perfect Two update, especially since I still have to finish my fic for Spain's birthday _and_ Valentine's fic, but we'll see.
> 
> Next is "you can be the shoes and I can be the laces", with hongice (I have like half of this fic written, I'm so excited.)


	11. You can be the shoes and I can be the laces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emil is blushy and Leon is suspended

Emil was running.

Running late, running a fever, and literally running. It was Monday, and because he was still slightly sick, he slept through his alarm; then, because of all the stupid house rules made by Lukas ( _"No breakfast until you call me big brother"_ ) and Mathias ( _"Nuh-uh, I'm not giving you the backpack unless you say please. In_ danish _."_ ), he had missed his ride to school; now he had to run all the way to school. Granted, it was only three blocks, but it took almost 15 minutes to get to school and he was going to miss most of first bell, and he had barely had time to pull on his shoes. Speaking of which, he couldn't remember if he had properly tied them or not...

"Úff! Heimskur snúra!"

The Icelandic boy crashed into the sidewalk, mere steps away from the school doors. Cursing quietly to himself, he sat up and started tying his shoes. Maybe if he hurried, he could make it to the office, his locker, and finally his first class before the bell rang.

"Uh, do you, like, need any help?"

Emil's head snapped up, taking in the brunette boy above him, "Hvað?"

"What?" The boy scrunched up his rather large eyebrows and cocked his head to the side, "Do you, like, speak english or something? 'Cause whatever it is you're speaking, I can't understand it."

"Ah," Emil nodded, blushing at his mistake, "Afsak-I mean, sorry. It's Icelandic, sometimes I forget to switch back to English."

"No problem bro, but do you want some help getting up or what?" When Emil nodded, the boy reached out a hand to pull him up, "The name's Leon Wang, by the way."

"Ég er kalla- Er... My name's Emil. Emil Steilsson." He noticed that Leon was wearing the same uniform as he was, "Are you late too?"

Leon smirked and Emil felt his blush coming back. He hadn't noticed how pretty Leon's eyes were before, but whoa.

"I was suspended. _Apparently,_ creating fireworks in chemistry isn't allowed or something, so I'm only here because my stupid nanny insisted that I get out of the house since it 'isn't gentlemanly to lounge about all day'," Leon rolled his eyes, "It's really because he just wants the house free so he can invite his annoying boyfriend over."

Emil nodded, before asking a question that had been nagging at him. "Why are you in your uniform then?"

"Um…" Leon rubbed the back of his neck and _Helvíti_ , where did all those muscles come from? They weren't there a second ago. "My brother doesn't exactly know that I'm suspended yet, and if he did then he would be pissed. He's a bit overbearing, y'know?"

"I understand _completely_ ," Emil groaned in exasperation as he remembered his own brother's ridiculousness. "Older brothers are the worst."

They stood in silence for a several seconds, before the school bell signaling the end of first period startled them.

"Oh, riddu mer!" Emil slammed a hand to his forehead before smiling apologetically at Leon. "It was wonderful meeting you, but I have to get going. See you around?"

"Ah, wait! Just let me..." Emil stopped as Leon fumbled around in his pockets. " _Yiu_... I know I have it in here somewhere... there it is!" Emil raised a brow at the pen that Leon was holding triumphantly, then began to blush furiously as Leon took his hand. "God, you probably think I'm like, a creep or something, but I swear I'm not. There we go... you should call me sometime, yeah?"

Emil stared at his arm in shock, then back up at the lightly flushed cheeks of Leon. He gave Leon one of his rare smiles, "Yeah. I'll definitely call you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, I promised a chapter before the end of the month and actually delivered! Now, if only I could finish my other stuff...
> 
> I hope you bellos enjoyed this~ I really like hongice but I had never read or written any before this, but that's what this project is for, right? I think they both could use work, but my Hong Kong is slightly better.
> 
> Concerning random stuff in the chapter: Lukas and Mathias live together; that's why Emil has to deal with both of them, even though he only has one brother. They're both dicks to him because Norway and Denmark (but mostly Denmark) were really horrible when they ruled over Iceland, and because I have a soft spot for horrible older siblings. Arthur is Leon's nanny, and his boyfriend is a mystery; I don't care who you imagine he is, just make sure Leon would find him annoying.
> 
> Next is "you can be the words that I spill on these pages" with either usuk or spamano. I haven't decided yet.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> **Úff! Heimskur snúra!-** Ow! Stupid shoe laces!
> 
> **Hvað?-** What?
> 
> **Helvíti-** Slang for "Damn"
> 
> **Riddu mer-** Fuck me (I got this from a slang site, so I'm p sure its the right version)
> 
> **Yiu-** Fuck (the only non-Icelandic curse in here)


End file.
